Valentine's Day, 2001
by Kovacsgirl
Summary: On the anniversary of Lucy's death, a very special patient comes into the ER. John must swallow his fear and guilt to save the young woman's life.


14.2.01  
  
Author: Sarah  
E-mail: kovacsgirl@yahoo.com or javagirl1214@yahoo.es  
Category: John Carter/ Additional Character  
Rating: PG  
Spoilers: Season 6/7  
Archive: E-mail me if you want this on your site  
Disclaimer: No own ER. But, I do own Ariel and her family.   
Author's notes: A spur of the moment story. Enjoy! I don't know what type of flowers Lucy likes, I just said carnations, because those are my favorite. *hee* Also, I have no idea if Lucy's family is Jewish or not, but I wanted them to be. So, I took some creative liberties.   
Summary: On the anniversary of Lucy's death, a very special patient comes into the ER. John must swallow his fear and guilt to save the young woman's life.   
  
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Ariel: 8:10   
*I hate Chicago*; I think to myself, walking through the halls of Loyola High School. I've hated it for the ten years that I've lived here. I hate Valentine's Day too. That's what today is. I'm not too sure why I have Valentine's Day. I just do. It's a funny little quark I have. It's rather odd for a sixteen year old to be this way. At sixteen I'm supposed to be in love all the time. I've got new for you. I'm not. I've never really been *normal* though.   
  
I do know why I hate Chicago. It's cold. And dreary. And windy. It's that wind coming of the lake. On this particular day, I'm cursing everyone. Mum and Dad. They had to go get killed when I was four. It was a car accident in the old country - Ireland. I don't really know all the logistics, but I do know that it involved a very drunk driver. Well, I was packed up and sent to Montreal, when my older sister, Heather, lived. Heather is a lawyer, is married and has a young daughter. I liked Montreal. It was very beautiful. I don't remember everything, but I do know it was a lot better than Chicago. When I was six, I had to move because Heather got a job in Chicago. I've been there ever since. I curse mum and dad. Heather. Chicago. I hate it. I want to go back to Montreal. Or even better, Ireland. The countryside there is so lovely. I long to be back there and to totally forget Chicago.   
  
@---'--,---  
  
John: 10:07  
Today is rougher than I though it would be. Hell, I knew it would be difficult, but not this difficult. And it's like everyone knows. The past is flaunted to the entire ER today. It's not like anyone's callous or anything, but it's the pity I feel the most. People stare at me while I'm at work and even go so far as to ask me ho I'm feeling. Or if they can do anything. God damn it, I just want them to leave me alone! Weaver gave me some time off, and now I'm at Lucy's grave. It's painful, but a duty I have to accomplish.   
  
The cemetery is on the outskirts of town, nestled among country clubs and mansions. It's a bit amusing when you think about it. Lucy's final resting place is located where my *people* hang out. Among the rich. She would have liked it here. In the early spring - in a few months - the countryside will be lush and green with new life. I guess some things go on. The land will be blanketed in the new grass and it will be beautiful. Like her. You can't tell that there is a city near by. Peaceful. As a cemetery should be.   
  
You don't really think about how fragile life is - until you have a reason to. Even I, who has lost a brother and practically a cousin, a mother, and a father. I don't really consider it either. You want to forget it, so you do. The mind is a great thing. Even when it doesn't work right. It dictates your actions and when it gets messed up, so do you. I guess I shouldn't blame Paul Sobriki. It essentially isn't his fault. His mind dissipated, his conscious comprehension of morality really. He thought he was doing right. What is right? What is wrong for that matter? Who dictates morality? Who chooses who doesn't follow, and who doesn't comprehend. Who chooses who goes crazy? Who dies? Paul is at a mental hospital now. I haven't heard from Samantha for a long time. Last time I saw her was when her child was born, She named her Lucy.   
  
By this time I've gotten to the cemetery. There's a small flower shop across the street. I decide to stop in and get some flowers for Lucy's grave. Carnations were always Lucy's favorite. Roses are mine. I got six of each and crossed the street to the cemetery. The snow crunches under my feet. It's really very odd the things you pick up when you don't mean to. I mean, on a regular day I might not notice the sound, but today, I do. I have to trek a little ways to get to Lucy's grave. The stone is covered with snow and I brush it off. In doing so, I knock off a few stones. Quickly I return them to their proper positions. Lucy is Jewish. Whenever a family member comes to her grave, they say a prayer and place a stone on the headstone. It's a Jewish tradition I guess. The stone itself says:   
Lucy Christina Knight  
October 15th 1975 - February 14th 2000  
  
I run my fingers over the indented words and kneel next to the headstone. They add a finality to this that I don't like. I place the flowers next to the lexis. I wish I could give them to her in person. I miss her. I'm still guilty too. I stay there for a long time, tears running down my cheeks. *I love you, Lucy Christina Knight,* I think, wishing life wasn't so unfair.   
  
@---'--,---  
  
Ariel: 12:31  
I guess you could call me a Goth. Everyone I know does. I really don't have any friends, and I prefer to be alone. I like black. And - mainly to seize revenge on Heather - I dress entirely in black. I guess it also matches my soul. That is if I have one. I've never really been happy. I think this is because I've never really been understood. People expect me to conform. I don't want to be like every brain-warped *normal* person out there. I wasn't put on this earth to kowtow with society. No one ever understood that though. Whenever Heather went to a conference while I was in grade school, people told her that they worried about me. Because I hung out alone. Because I preferred to have my nose stuck in a book, rather than play all the primitive games my classmates did. Because I was quieter than a mouse in class. Because I was cynical. Heather had to sit through all that and tell every teacher not to worry. Then they told Heather not to worry, for I'd grow out of this. When I got to high school, people were still worried, but more understanding. But, it was still a call to arms for me. I still was expected to be traditional. So I rebelled. I began my crusade towards Goth-ism and have never stopped. I really don't care if people stare. If I never get invited to the prom. I really couldn't care less. People call me apathetic too. Now, that is very annoying. Apathy is when you don't vote because you don't care. If someone asked me to the prom, I would go. Even though I don't care. There is on thing I live for though. That is understanding. Understanding. And, if I dig down deep enough, I long for acceptance. But, I severely doubt if that will ever happen.  
  
@---'--,---  
  
Kerry: 13:27   
I'm getting worried about John. Not just because it's been a while since I let him off to visit Lucy's grave, but also because it's Valentine's Day. I've known him to sink into depressions, and today would be the most likely day for something to happen. Most terrible: suicide. He might. Or he might accidentally over dose or...  
  
"Sorry I was gone so long, Weaver," he says, walking grimly into the ER. His face is tired and he is a bit sluggish.   
  
"That's all right. I was beginning to get worried," I respond. He nods quickly and turns to leave,   
  
"Do you have anything for me?"   
  
"Uh, yeah, take the kid in exam two," I say, handing him the chart in my hand. He smiles and leaves. Maybe there is no reason to worry after all.   
  
@---'--,---  
  
Ariel: 15:24  
Another day of school *successfully* completed. I really just want to get home. Even to me, it gets to me when I see other getting all these things from their crushes. I kick at the snow as I walk home. Do you ever get that feeling that someone is watching you? Or - even worse - following you? Well, that's how I feel right now. You know. You stop. They stop. You walk, they walk. You jump on one foot, and they do too. The feeling progresses as I walk home. Suddenly, there is someone breathing down my neck. Before I know it, they're pushing something into my body, over and over. Something cold. Something pointed. Something long. I abruptly realize what is happening. I'm being stabbed...  
  
@---'--,---  
  
Dave: 15:45  
I'm an idiot. If I had actually thought about my residency, I would have done my EMT work before now. But, I'm not real smart and I've pushed it all the way to now. SO, I'm responding to a call. It's not in a real great neighborhood, and I don't know totally what it is. We just got the call and no other details.   
  
The ambulance arrives on the scene. There is a teenager lying on the ground, surrounded in a pool of blood. It doesn't take a long time to figure out what happened. The girl looks to be about sixteen. The scene is really odd. Painful too. She had crumpled to the ground in a bizarre position. A Biology book lies a few feet away, it's open, having fallen to a section on viruses. The pages ruffle in the wind.   
  
@---'--,---  
  
Ariel: 15:47   
Ugh, I feel horrible. I can hear voices and I figure that someone has come to help. I hear footsteps then a paramedic shows up. He looks young, maybe a little younger than Heather and has a black ski hat type thingy on. He looks like a cross between Latino and Italian. He's kinda cute too. I'm rolled onto my back. This hurts worse than hell! I want to cry out, to tell someone how I feel, but nothing. In the twenty some minutes I've been here, my throat has already become parched and dry. I'm getting somnolent, and dizzy too. I feel like I'm on pins and needles. The feeling starts in my toes and gradually works its way up my body until every part has felt the sensation. Medical terms are shouted out all around me and I try to understand. Comprehend the danger, the dilemma I'm in. Then I'm put onto a stretcher and rolled into the ambulance.  
  
@---'--,---  
  
Dave: 16:05   
Carter is NOT going to like this...  
  
@---'--,---  
  
Ariel: 16:10  
They ask me my name. Damnit, they're doctors, don't they know I can't speak? What is my name? Uh, something with an *A* Maybe...Alicia? No, it's shorter. Anna? No, it was some movie, or Shakespeare character or something... Ariel! That's it. I have to keep my cool. I can't worry about what's going to happen to myself. I was hit by a car when I was ten, wasn't I? I pulled out fine. Yeah, I'll be fine. I'm tough. I'm a survivor. What's that? My name? Ariel. Oh, god! Save me. The ambulance hits bumps and I'm getting sick. Questions, they keep asking me questions. Help, I'm lost in a sea of questions, drowning in it. Someone! Save me. Help me! Why me? I'm not a sinner really. I'm really rather good. Just, whatever. The cute doc leans over me. What? He's talking to me. Something about my family. Why is this trip taking so long? Where are we going again? Am I flying or driving? Who are you? Who am I? Where am I? What happened again? I just need you to refresh my memory once more...   
  
@---'--,---  
  
John: 16:25  
Another Trauma. There seems to be an endless supply of traumas today. Malucci is bringing this one in. We don't know much. The ambulance rolls up and Malucci hops out.   
  
"What is it?" I yell. It's snowing. I just noticed that.   
  
"Carter, man, you better get someone else to cover for you," he replies.   
  
"I don't want your pity! I can do this!" Why am I yelling?   
  
"Carter..."   
  
"What the hell is it?"   
  
"Stabbing victim."   
  
Oh my god...   
  
@---'--,---  
  
Ariel: 16:30  
I'm somewhere else now. A building I guess. More voices. Loud voices. Damn, they hurt. Shrill angry voices pull at my skull. Ripping, tearing. Painful anguish. Help me. Stop the pain. My head feels like it will explode. Why? Why me? Why am I the one who has to go through this pain? It reminds me of when I was a Frosh. In Theo.* I had to do a report on nuclear weapons and I read the book Children of Hiroshima all the anguish reminds me a bit of this situation. Only a bit. Theirs was mine intensified many times over. Pounding. All over my body. My head, my limbs, my chest. I'm beginning to think I will die. One doctor looks at me with such pain in his eyes. Why? Did this happen to him once? A loved one? A child? More medical terms. God, this hallway is a long one. The lights are beautiful. They switch colors. Red. Then blue. Then yellow, green, orange, purple. I ask a European looking doctor where the lights come from and how did they get them to change colors like that. He glances from me to another doctor. Orders more medications. For what? What is happening. Where's Heather? Oh, someone call Heather! My sister of course! The number is 209-3992. She works at the Jerisson Law Firm...   
  
*Them: theology. Loyola is a Catholic high school, Theology is a required course.  
  
@---'--,---  
  
Kerry: 16:50  
I knew something like this would happen. Oh god. Why? Why today? Why Carter? Hasn't he gone through enough pain? The girl is so young. Lucy, Lucy send an intercession on this girl's behalf. Please. Please save her for Carter's sake.   
  
@---'--,---  
  
Ariel:17:01  
I'm so tired. I'm dizzy. Nauseous. My body aces and I long to be put out of my misery. St. Maria Gorreti, pray for my soul. The world is spinning so fast. Things begin to fade. From the inside out. Goodbye. Goodbye...   
  
@---'--,---  
  
Luka: 17:06  
Who is this girl? Someone brings up an identification card. Ariel Keller. Age, sixteen. Blood type, O+. The list goes on. And on. Anyone needs to contact her family. This is so familiar. The girl could be Lucy. Carter looks to be in intense pain. I hope someone can help him. He's been through so much. No one should suffer like that. But we all do.   
  
@---'--,---   
  
John: 17:21   
We've been working on this girl for almost an hour. We need to save her. For Lucy. If this girl dies, I'll never forgive myself. I feel like I'm back where I was last year. Why does this happen? Of all the days, of all the times, she had to come in today!   
  
****Flashbacks****   
  
"Somebody?!"   
  
"Lucy?"  
  
"John! John can you hear me?"   
  
"My back!"   
  
"You were stabbed."   
  
"Did you see the man who stabbed you?"  
  
"Yes, she's alive..."   
  
"Get Benton! He needs to go up right now!"   
  
"I want you to stay awake John. You stay awake until you get up there. You here me?"   
  
"I'm glad its you."   
  
Lucy's dead isn't she?"   
  
****End of Flashbacks****   
  
"John? John, are you okay?" It's Weaver. I turn to look at her.   
  
"Uh, yeah. I'll be fine."  
  
She looks at me like she doesn't believe me, but goes on. The girl kinda reminds me of Lucy. She had the same type of blue eyes. And the look of helplessness and fear were in her eyes as in Lucy's. She's attractive, in her own way. But she looks dead. I'm afraid that we've lost her. I can't loose another person to this! There has to be something we haven't tried!   
  
@---'--,---  
  
Randi: 17:38  
I have to call this patient's guardian. I'm holding the ID card. Ariel Keller. Sweet looking thing. It's a pity such a nice girl had to get attacked on Valentine's Day. Not just for her, but for Doctor Carter. He's such a nice guy. He shouldn't have had to go through this. Life isn't fair.   
  
I dial the number and wait. And I get the answering machine. "You've reached the home of Heather and Ryan Parker. We're not home right now. Please leave a message at the sound of the tone..." Great, They're not home. Ariel must spend a couple hours by herself. I glance at the card again. Jerisson Law Firm. Well, it's worth a try.   
  
@---'--,---  
  
Heather: 17: 45   
A phone call on line three. That's a personal line. Only people who have personal matters call that line. I get a little worried when I see the orange light flashing. Maybe Ryan had an accident. Or Ariel. Nah. I'm working late. Ryan or Ariel is calling to see where I am. I pick up the receiver. "Heather Parker. How can I help you?"  
  
"Mrs. Parker? My name is Randi. I'm a receptionist at County General Hospital-"   
  
County General Hospital! Oh my god, what has happened? Ryan? Ariel? Oh god, no! I don't say anything and she continues.   
  
"Your sister, Ariel Keller came in around 4:30."   
  
"What happened?" I hear my voice grow more frantic. My heart is racing faster and faster. "Is she okay?"   
  
"Well, she was stabbed. The wounds are not very deep, but one of her kidneys was lacerated. She's still in trauma right now."   
  
"Oh my God..." I feel ready to pass out. This can't be happening. No, it's just a bad dream. No I won't accept it. "Are you sure you have the right person?"   
  
"I'm afraid so Mrs. Parker. I think maybe you should come here right away."   
  
I nod, even though the woman can't see it. "I'll be right over," I mutter, managing a croak. I hang up and run to the parking lot.   
  
@---'--,---  
  
Luka: 18:12   
The dreaded sound of a stopped heart fills the trauma room. It grows deathly silent. We all remember that sound from a year ago. We glance around at one another and finally we all glance at Carter. He's stony and pale. He barely moves, save his lips. Like he's talking to someone. He stares straight ahead and makes no inclination that he can see or hear us. Suddenly we return to the matter at hand. Abby hands me the paddles and I begin a hauntingly familiar procedure.   
  
"Clear." Nothing. "Clear!" Carter has returned to the present but he doesn't look any better. We continue to shock her heart. We'll keep going as long as we have to. Recently we had to shock a girl's heart for an hour.   
  
@---'--,---  
  
Kerry: 18:16   
Carter. John. Please. Please don't do something crazy on us. Help us. We need to save her. For Lucy. Come on John. Please.   
  
@---'--,---  
  
Dave: 18:17   
Come on Carter. Snap out of it man. Come on don't do this to us. You'll be all right...  
  
@---'--,---  
  
John: 18:22  
No. This is too much. I can't do it. No. My god, stop. Please. Stop. Get me out of here. This is too much. No. Lucy. Lucy, forgive me. I'll never be able to save you. Please. Help. God. Stop. I can't I can't do this. Get me out of here. Oh my God! I can not do this. I CAN NOT! I need to get out of here. I have to get out. Ariel Keller, forgive me. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I'm sorry. Kerry, I can't do this. I can't help this girl.   
  
@---'--,---  
  
Kerry: 18:25   
"John! John snap out of it!" A sweat has broken out on his face. His is still muttering to himself. "JOHN!" I scream. He shakes his head and glances at me.   
  
"What?"   
  
"Are you okay?"   
  
"Ye-" he falters. Then shakes his head. "Yes. Give me the paddles Luka." Luka reluctantly hands over the paddles. He begins to shock the girl's heart. And she comes back to us.   
A soft heart beat returns and we all sigh in relief.   
  
@---'--,---  
  
John: 18:30  
Two hours after Ariel comes in, we're all leaning back, as if we've run a marathon. An we have. Not physically, but mentally, and spiritually. I sigh with relief.   
  
"Luka, please take her up to surgery," I instruct.   
  
I did it Lucy. I did it for you. Even if you couldn't be her to see it.   
  
@---'--,---  
  
Ariel: 19:00   
Thank-you Doctor Carter. I'll never forget it.   
  
@---'--,---  
  
Lucy  
I did see it John. I did. Thank-you. For me. For Ariel. It's what you needed. You are too strong. I knew you wouldn't break. But you didn't. You needed to know that you are still capable. I hope that you know that you are a good person and that you don't need me to be one. I never balled you. It's not your fault. I love you. Happy Valentine's Day.   
  
@---'--,---  
  
*El Fin*   
  
For Emi: You didn't really know me, but I prayed for you too,  
  
"O Fortune, Fortune! All me call thee fickle  
If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him  
That is renowned for faith? Be fickle, Fortune,  
For then I hope thou wilt not keep him long  
But send him back.   
--- Romeo and Juliet  
3.5, 60-65  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
